


Shortest Way Home

by secret_cs_fics



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dublin (City), F/M, Ireland, Travel, study abroad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:30:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secret_cs_fics/pseuds/secret_cs_fics
Summary: When Emma Swan, 17, orphan, chronic foster child, utterly unadoptable, sets off for 6 months as an exchange student in Dublin, Ireland, she is just waiting for something to go wrong. After all, there is always a catch for her. That is until she meets her host family: Liam Jones and his cute little brother Killian. For the first time, Emma might just have a chance at finding a home.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a prompt for something along these lines flit across my dash weeks ago and this story bubbled up.

_"Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home," - James Joyce_

 

* * *

 

 

Emma stood in the middle of arrivals area in Terminal 2, staring at her one suitcase. Correction, she was glaring at her one suitcase, as if it was to blame for all her worries. _They’re going to think I’m so pathetic_. One stupid suitcase, because all she had in the whole world, fit into just one suitcase.

 

What had she been thinking? To think that she, orphan, chronic-foster child, completely unadoptable, Emma Swan, could live in another country.

 

When she had first heard of the “Homes Away From Home” program, she’d been nothing but excited. It was a special program for foster kids to spend six months as an exchange student. It sounded perfect. Emma had never left the country. She’d only ever left Maine once, when a foster family had been kind enough to take her on their family trip to Florida (then decided they really couldn’t deal with another child, sending her floating back into the system just weeks after… but at least now she had souvenir mouse ears right?). She’d always wanted to see the world. This program seemed the perfect fit.

 

Luckily enough, her grades weren’t too horrible, despite having attended three different high schools over three years. She had tried hard during her interview to be charming and intelligent, so they’d think she was responsible enough to live abroad. And somehow, somehow it had been enough. For the first time really, Emma Swan had been enough for something.

 

Which was why this had to be a mistake. There was always a catch with her. There was always something wrong, some reason she got sent back. As she glared at her embarrassingly single suitcase, she wondered what it would be this time.

 

“Um, yes, sorry, lass. I’m sorry to be a bother, but are you Emma Swan?” Asked a voice.

 

She looked up, forehead crinkling at the boy in front of her.

 

First of all, he was super hot. He was about her age, probably 17 or 18, with dark hair, a bit of freckles, and the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was the kind of boy that you could tell already was going to grow into his looks- the kind of boy who was cute now, but who be ruggedly handsome by his mid-twenties.

 

He was well dressed as well, a collared shirt under an edgy leather jacket. She noticed where one sleeve gave way to prosthetic hand. For a brief moment, she wondered what hard things this attractive boy had gone through to receive one.

 

Despite the fact that he was stupidly attractive, it didn’t explain who he was. She had been informed by “Homes Away from Home” that she’d be staying with a Mr. Liam Jones. She’d spoken to him on Skype a few weeks back. He’s been a kind man in his early thirties, with curly hair and a worn smile. But this guy wasn’t Liam Jones.

 

“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” Emma said, her voice hesitant, “And you are?”

 

“Killian Jones,” The boy explained, offering his non-prosthetic hand to shake, “Me brother’s Liam. He couldn’t nick a spot in the car park so he sent me into to find you.”

 

“What?” Emma asked, her jetlagged brain not able to keep up with his accent and jargon.

 

“Just follow me,” Killian said, nodding towards the exit, “And welcome to Dublin.”

 

Emma swore his eye actually twinkled. She stood locked in her place staring at him for a moment, a little shocked by the whole thing.

 

“Oh sorry,” He said, turning back when she didn’t move, “Let me help you with your bags.”

 

“Bag,” Emma corrected, pulling on her suitcase and taking off after him, “Just one bag.”

 

“That’s grand, really,” Killian said, “After six months in Dublin, you’ll have yourself a whole nother suitcase full of things from Penny’s, you’ll see.”

 

Emma didn’t bother asking what this time, deciding that she’d never make sense of Killian’s colloquial mutterings.

 

She followed him into the cold autumn air. At least Maine and Ireland had one thing in common, stupidly cold weather.

 

Emma reigned herself in, realizing the weather was the third thing she’d mentally called stupid in the last five minutes. She needed to make a good impression, not an angry one.

 

They stopped outside of a car.

 

“I’ll pop your suitcase in the boot for ya,” Killian said, “You can sit in the front with Liam, so you get the best view.”

 

Emma nodded and went to open the door. Only there was someone sitting there.

 

Right. Because she was in Ireland where the steering wheel was on the other side of the car.

 

Screw making an angry impression, Emma Swan had certainly just made a stupid one.

 

“Ah, sorry,” She squeaked, running around to the opposite side of the vehicle.

 

When she did slide into the passenger’s seat, both Liam and Killian were chuckling.

 

“So I guess you must be Emma,” Liam said, “Welcome to the family.”

 

“Sorry for almost sitting on you,” Emma said, awkwardly.

 

“It’s more than fine,” Liam laughed, “I’d have probably done the same thing if I’d just gotten off a plane in America. Speaking of, how are you feeling?”

 

Emma thought about the dull, sleep-deprived ache behind her eyes, “A little tired.”

 

“I bet,” Liam said, “Well, let’s get you home then. You can have a bit of a nap and you’ll be right again.”

 

Emma nodded, leaning her head against the window, thinking happily of sleep.

 

The two brothers pointed out sights on the way to their house. A street called O’Connell where there had apparently once been a revolution, but now was mostly made up of Starbucks and McDonalds. There was a grey-ish river called Liffey that flowed through the town, with many bridges, including one shaped like a harp, crisscrossing it. On the other side of the river, they pointed out Trinity College, Grafton Street, and St. Stephen’s Green.

 

“We live in a bit of Dublin called Rathmines,” Liam explained, “It’s not a far walk, or a short bus ride, into the center of town.”

 

Emma nodded, feeling more sleepy and confused.

 

“It’s okay if you don’t remember,” Liam said, “We’ll give you the grand tour later.”

 

They pulled up to a driveway. Emma shuffled out of the car.

 

“Follow Killian into the house,” Liam instructed, “I’ll get your bag.”

 

Emma followed behind Killian into the house.

 

“Living room is there,” He said, “And the kitchen and toilet are down that hall. The rooms are upstairs.”

 

She followed him the stairs, trying not to drag her feet. She couldn’t wait to fall into bed.

 

“Here is your room,” Killian nodded.

 

Emma walked in to the space, taking in the blue plaid duvet cover on a full size bed, the little window looking out over the city, and the small fresh flowers in a vase on the windowsill. She felt her throat catch. It wasn’t often that people were this kind to her, putting work into the details of her room. In fact, she hadn’t had her own room at the last two homes she’d lived in.

 

“Thanks,” she mumbled, “I’m going to take a nap, if that’s okay.”

 

“’Course it is,” Killian said, “Liam and I will be downstairs. Come find us if you need us.”

 

Emma nodded, closing the door, peeling off her sweaty airplane clothes, and tumbling into the rare comfort of a full size bed.

* * *

 

 

When Emma woke a few hours later, she navigated her way to the shower. After spending what felt like forever trying to figure out how to work it, she finally realized she needed to pull a cord from the ceiling, then press a button, in order for it to work. The warm blast of water made it all worth it. There was nothing more rejuvenating than a hot shower. Once she’d showered, dried off, and brushed her teeth- she finally started to feel like more human, and a little less zombie like.

 

She headed to her room where she picked through her suitcase till she found those high-waisted skinny jeans that framed her legs the right way _and_ made her tummy look good. She grabbed a plain, long black shirt and necklace. She dapped on a little make up. She obviously wasn’t going to these lengths because she had an attractive new host brother, right?

 

Trying not to think of it, Emma plunked down the stairs to the main floor of the house, where she found Killian and Liam watching some sort of sport on TV.

 

“There you are Emma,” Liam said, “Just in time for hurling.”

 

“Excuse me?” Emma asked, wondering if this was ever going to get less confusing.

 

Goodness, she’d picked to do an exchange in an English-speaking country for a reason. She’d never thought there would be so many things here she didn’t know.

 

After bringing her a cup of tea and some sort of cookie that seemed kinda like a chocolate dipped graham cracker, they started to explain hurling to her. It seemed like someone combined lacross, baseball, and hockey into one sport, with a wacky score system. But the sport had cultural importance in Ireland and she could tell it meant a lot to Liam and Killian. It was fun to see her host brothers get so into the match, but it was even more baffling when it finished in a tie meaning the teams would have a rematch to determined the winner.

 

“You mean there’s no overtime?” Emma asked, as they walked up Rathmines Road towards central Dublin, a few minutes later, wrapped in her jacket.

 

“Of course not,” Killian said, as if personally offended.

 

“You tie the sport, then you have to play it all over again in a few weeks?” Emma clarified.

 

“Exactly,” Killian informed, “Now come along, Swan. We’ve got to celebrate your arrival at Bunsen.”

 

 _Swan,_ He had a name for her. Like a sweet little pet name, you call people you care about.

 

Shit. Emma was totally going to fall for him.

 

It turned out Bunsen was a burger joint that could rival anything she’d had in the states.

 

“I thought that Ireland would just be pubs and fish and chips,” Emma said, as she chewed on her burger. It’d been hours since she ate on her flight and she was starving, but trying her best to seem civilized as she munched her burger.

 

“It’s Dublin, not the other side of the world, Emma,” Killian laughed.

 

“Have you heard you guys talk?” She teased back, “I’m not sure it’s English.”

 

“You’ll catch on soon enough,” Liam told her, giving her a supportive pat on the back.

 

* * *

 

 

And so she did.

 

She started school a few days later. Liam had arranged a school uniform for her from some friend whose daughter had graduated a year before. She felt like a Harry Potter character in it, all pleated skirts and lumpy sweaters. But there was something of charm to that, living in Ireland, dressing like a Harry Potter character.

 

Killian went to her school as well. He was in the year above her, in his final year, and studying for some sort of big exam that would determine essentially where he went to college and what he studied. He warned her that she might not see much of him this year, as he had lots of studying to do. He wanted to study medicine and he needed top marks for it. Emma said she liked to study a lot too.

 

She often haunted the library with him when school finished. The two of them would spread their books over a large table and spend hours doing schoolwork. Emma liked it that way, looking up to see Killian’s face intense with concentration. There was something endearing about his studiousness.

 

The classes were a little different here. The schedules didn’t repeat like they did in America. Instead, there were different classes for each day. While most of her classes were the same, like math (only they called it maths) and English literature, she had Irish language on her schedule. She was hopeless at it, especially considering her classmates had been studying it years. Luckily, the teacher was sympathetic and never cold called her, something Emma was immensely grateful for. She signed up for painting as her arts elective since it had been her favorite class back at home.

 

Killian introduced her to a girl named Ruby, who had dark hair and a penchant for infringing on uniform rules. She was in Emma’s class and was wonderful enough to take Emma under her wing. She picked up on Emma’s Irish cultural education where the Jones brothers left off, teaching her all of the dirtiest things to say.

 

“When am I ever going to need to ask for sex in so many different ways?” Emma laughed, as Ruby listed off nearly ten different phrases for the nasty.

 

“You never know,” Ruby shrugged, pulling Emma in the direction of a local café, “It’s best to be informed.”

 

“Whatever you say,” Emma laughed, following Ruby.

 

“So what about your host brother?” Ruby teased.

 

“What about him?” Emma replied, trying to remain cool.

 

“He’s rather fit,” Ruby said.

 

“Fit?”

 

“Attractive,” Ruby translated.

 

“Oh do you like him?” Emma asked.

 

Ruby chuckled, “He’s not really my type. Men in general aren’t really my type actually. I was thinking about him for you?”

 

Emma blushed.

 

“You totally have a crush, don’t you?” Ruby exclaimed.

 

“What? No. Maybe.” Emma admitted.

 

“Why don’t you make some moves?” Ruby asked.

 

Emma was hesitant to admit the truth, but Ruby was so easy to talk to, so, “I’m still kinda afraid of my host family.”

 

“You’re afraid of Liam and Killian Jones?” Ruby repeated. “Oh darling, they’re nothing but the soundest of lads. Trust me, you don’t have to be afraid of them.”

 

Emma stilled in the street, her eyes stinging, because Ruby didn’t understand.

 

“Whenever I get to a new place, I always have to be careful,” Emma said, her voice softer now, “If this doesn’t work, I get sent back to America. I really like it here. I don’t want to ruin things.”

 

“Emma, you are one of sweetest girls I’ve ever met, you don’t have to worry about being sent home,” Ruby said, confusion in her voice.

 

“Say that to the last twelve families I’ve lived with,” Emma said, uncomfortable.

 

“Oh Emma,” Ruby said, pulling her to a bench and putting her arm around her. “I’m so sorry life has been rubbish for you. But you’ve got a little family here, me, Killian, and Liam. We’ll make sure you’ll be alright.”

 

Emma sniffled and tried to believe her new friend. But she’d known her for an only a few weeks. Could she really believe the things they told her?

 

* * *

 

 

The Jones brothers were diligent about making sure that Emma got the complete Dublin experience. They took her to see the Book of Kells in Trinity Library. They dragged her to every museum in town- the National Gallery, the Archeology museum, and the Natural History Museum (which apparently everyone called the dead zoo). They took her for a long, sobering afternoon in Kilmainham Gaol.

 

One Saturday, they took her out to Howth Head for a long afternoon hike. Before they left, she stared in the mirror several long minutes in her athletic leggings and hoodie wondering if this was how someone dressed to go on a hike. She’d never done that before. She’d never had a family that did Saturday outings, or that cared if she going to have a good life.

 

“The fresh air will be good for your soul,” Liam explained, as they got off a train called the DART.

 

She’d never had a family that cared if she got fresh air before.

 

During the hike, Liam got ahead, leaving her and Killian to walk side by side.

 

“I used to come here with me mam a lot when I was little,” Killian said, “They have a farmers market on weekend mornings. We’d get a bit of lunch, have a hike around the head, and then pick up some ingredients to cook dinner.”

 

“That sounds nice,” Emma said, trying to imagine the kind of day that meant spending time with a parent. She’d never really had anything like that.

 

They took a few more steps, looking out over the cliffs, hazy with fog in the afternoon.

 

“If it weren’t so foggy, you’d be able to see the sea,” Killian told her.

 

“Oh,” Emma said, and then, “You don’t talk about your parents much.”

 

Killian was quiet for a moment, pausing his steps to look at her, his expression serious, “They died in a car accident when I was nine. We were driving home from a trip to the country to see my grandparents. That’s uh, that’s now I got this.” He lifted his false hand.

 

Emma felt his words touch her skin and travel to her heart. It ached a bit for him, just then.

 

She put a gentle hand on his arm, “I’m really sorry, Killian.”

 

“It’s okay,” He softly, “I’ve had Liam to take care of me. He’s my family.”

 

“I’m glad you’ve had him,” Emma said. Because she knew the alternate. She knew what it was like to be thrown into a system where you found yourself getting lonelier and lonelier, falling farther and farther behind.

 

“Your parents died too?” He asked, his voice tentative, as if he wasn’t really sure he should ask.

 

Emma shook her head, shrugging, trying to keep the pain and embarrassment off her face.

 

“I don’t really know,” She said, slowly, “I was left on the side of the road as an infant.”

 

“Oh Emma,” Killian said, pulling her into a hug.

 

Emma didn’t get hugs often, but Killian’s was perfect. He was tall enough that she could tuck her head under his chin, his arms wrapping easily around her waist. She felt a warmth creep through her body, sharp contrast against the chilled sea air.

 

“Hey, you two,” Liam called from the fog beyond, “Hurry up, you’re falling behind.”

 

They broke the hug hastily, following the footpath to where Liam lingered in the distance.

 

* * *

 

 

That night, as Emma sat in bed reading, Killian knocked on her door.

 

“Come in,” She said, nodding at him.

 

He was dressed casually now, a t-shirt and grey sweatpants. She liked seeing Killian like this, casual and comfy.

 

He sat on the edge of her bed lightly.

 

“Erm, hi,” He said, “I got you this.”

 

He tossed her a king size bar of Cadbury Oreo. That stuff was delicious and she’d made no small thing of her love for their chocolatey goodness. But that didn’t mean it was typical of Killian to just buy one for her.

 

Her heart fluttered a little bit.

 

“I just wanted to tell you,” He said, “That you’ve always got a family with Liam and me. I know you are only staying here for six months, but you’ll have us forever. Whenever you need us. I promise.”

 

Emma dropped her half opened chocolate bar. There were tears springing in here eyes. Not that she wanted to cry in front of cute, clever Killian. But no one, no one had ever had said that to her before.

 

She sniffled, trying to reel herself back in. She picked up her chocolate and fidgeted with the wrapper.

 

“Thanks,” She said, “Thank you, Killian.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I think things are getting better,” Emma told Ruby as they made their way through the famous Penny’s.

 

The store reminded her a bit of Target, but way cheaper. Emma had never been one to have much of a wardrobe at all, but she was able to pick up a few cute pieces that she could actually afford. Ruby, she’d discovered, was a shopaholic when it came to Penny’s.

 

“With Killian?” Ruby asked, as she flicked through a rack of shirts, picking one up to hold in front of her.

 

“Yeah, I think I’m less afraid of him and Liam,” Emma said happily, “He gave me this chocolate bar and said that we’re family and-“

 

“Wait? He said you were family?” Ruby repeated, “Em, that’s total friend zone territory.”

 

“Is it?” Emma asked, “Shoot.”

 

“It’s okay,” Ruby said, “At least you’ve got him as family, right? Now let’s go this way. There’s a shade of lipstick I saw last week that’d look perfect of you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Liam and Killian continued their family outings with Emma. They took her to more places in Dublin, an art gallery on the North side, a play at the Abbey Theater, and an afternoon stroll in Phoenix Park. One day they even went to the Guinness Storehouse. While Emma was too young to be allowed a drink (though Liam gave her a sip of his pint), it was still fun to see the entire city from the top of the bar.

 

They took her up to Northern Ireland one Saturday. They took her to some rock formations called Giants Causeway, supernatural hexagons that tumbled into the sea. Emma and Killian lept from one hexagon to the next, giggling like children playing on the formation. In the afternoon, they went to Belfast to peak through the Titanic museum and grab dinner before heading back to Dublin.

 

That night, they pilled onto the couch, Liam insisting that she and Killian watch some classic Irish film they’d never seen before. The film made Emma sleepy, especially wrapped in a warm blanket. She was exhausted from a day of travel. She felt herself drifting off. If she moved her head just a bit, she knew that she’d rest her head on his shoulder. She wondered if she dared herself to do so. Her eyes were fluttering and she let herself relax, her head falling sleepily on his shoulder.

 

_That was a sibling thing to do, right?_

_Please_ , she knew that it wasn’t just that. She still had feelings. She was probably going to have feelings for the rest of her months there.

 

As she drifted off to sleep, she let herself pretend, for one tiny moment, that they were dating. She imagined he was her smart, kind, cute boyfriend and she the messy, but endearing girlfriend. Maybe in another world, another life where she wasn’t a ward of the state, where she people talked about loving her for keeps. Maybe if fate was just a little bit different, maybe then he could love her for real.

 

* * *

 

 

She woke, her eyes fluttering, less than an hour later. Killian was stretching, jolting Emma from her dreams. The movie was finished, the Jones brothers heading off to bed.

 

“Emma,” Liam said, as he turned off the TV, “You nodded off, didn’t you?”

 

She gave a sleepy smile and stretched, “Maybe just a little.”

 

“I can’t believe you missed the end,” Killian remarked, “Best part.”

 

“We’ll have to watch it again,” Emma concluded, as she started stumbling towards her bedroom.

 

Stumbling, being the operative word, she her ankle snag on a cord, her body thrown forward. In a sweeping motion, she watched the floor rise up to meet her face. Killian reached out, catching her in his arms.

 

For a moment she was star struck, blushing at the feel of his arms around her, reeling in the instant safety she felt in them.

 

Then another moment later, she was gasping as she watch the lamp (whose cord she had tripped on) teeter in its place before falling over and smashing through the window in a loud clatter.

 

A window. She broke a window. A full pane of glass shattered because of her irresponsibility.

 

She thought of another window, five years before. She was twelve and one of her foster brothers was teaching her how to play baseball. The ball had traveled right through the window, just as the lamp had, smashing the glass. She’d been sent away that night, packing her bags, shipped off to another family. “We don’t tolerate vandalism,” They’d told her as they sent her off, not listening to her protests.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Emma whispered, not knowing if she was saying it to them or to herself, because she knew it was all over.

 

She shook off Killian’s arms, from where they still rested on her and ran up the stairs. She could still see Killian and Liam silent in shock. They were probably so surprised that someone like her who had nothing could be so irresponsible.

 

She got into her room, slamming the door, and shoveling all of clothes from her dresser back into her suitcase. Her stupid only suitcase.

 

There were tears stinging her eyes, making the back of her throat itchy and raw. She really liked it here. She couldn’t believe she’d messed this up too. She would miss Ireland. She’d miss Liam’s kind smiles and Killian’s serious face. She’d miss Ruby and her gossipy stories. She’d miss Murphy’s Ice Cream and the buskers on Grafton Street. She’d miss everyone’s accents and sharp green of the grass and digestive biscuits.

 

Emma wondered how long it would take for them to find her the next plane home, the next reluctant family, the next heartbreak.

 

“Emma! What are you doing?” Killian gasped, pain his voice, as he pushed into her room.

 

Liam was at his heels, the two guys looking down at her from the doorway with confused faces.

 

Emma tried to reply, but her voice stuck in her throat. Instead, plump tears rolled down her face, a buried sob making her breath hitch.

 

In a second, Liam and Killian had dropped onto the floor beside her, sandwiching her in a hug from either side.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Emma mumbled, “I really like it here. Could you think about not sending me home?”

 

Killian’s arms wrapped around her more tightly, his nose brushing against her hair.

 

“Emma, why would we send you home?” Liam asked.

 

“I broke… I’m sorry… I’m really sorry,” She whimpered, feeling pathetic.

 

“It’s just a window, Emma,” Liam said, “We can replace it, easy as pie.”

 

“You don’t think I’m a vandal?” Emma asked, meekly.

 

Liam chuckled, “Trust me Emma, no one could mistake you for a vandal.”

 

“You’d be surprised,” Emma said, trying for a joke, but her voice cracked.

 

“Oh Emma,” Killian said, softly. She imagined he put together the sad story underneath her outburst, or at least realized that there was one.

 

“I’m going to go put up something to cover it, so that no rain or nothing get in. I’ll replace it tomorrow,” Liam told her, as he got to his feet.

 

“Do you need help?” Emma asked.

 

“No, don’t worry,” He said, “Have a good rest, take a warm shower. You’re safe here, Emma.”

 

Emma nodded, grateful for Liam’s charity.

 

Killian stayed beside her, his arms still around her for a moment.

 

“Don’t you remember what I said?” He asked. “I promised you that you’d always have a family with Liam and meant it, Swan. You’ve got us for good.”

 

Emma only started to cry harder, turning to bury her face in the crook in Killian’s neck. She felt him press a kiss into her hair.

 

“I gave you my word and a Cadbury bar,” he said, “Nothing seals a deal like a Oreo Cadbury bar.”

 

Emma let out a little snicker, her nose sniffling.

 

“My brother was right,” He said, “You’ve had a long day. I think some sleep will do you well.”

 

His hands were gentle, as they helped her up and guided her to bed.

 

“You can unpack all your things tomorrow,” Killian said, giving her a teasing wiggle of his brows. He was good at that.

 

As Killian switched off the light and closed the door, her thoughts drifted back to the kiss in her hair. Was it real, or had she just imagined it?

 

What did it mean?

 

* * *

 

 

Things went back to normal after that. She and Killian occupied their usual table at the library after school each day, taking breaks for hot chocolate runs every once and a while. Ruby joined in occasionally, but she usually was more interested in convincing Emma to come with her to Penny’s or other shops on Henry Street.

 

The weekend trips resumed again. They spent an afternoon in Dun Laoghaire to walk along the docks and eat ice cream. Another weekend, they went to Cork for the day. Killian held her, hands gentle on her waist, as she bent backwards to kiss the Blarney Stone. He insisted on kissing it too.

 

“I’ve done it before,” He said, “But I need all the help I can get on the French oral exam on the Leaving Cert.”

 

Emma giggled, as she and Liam helped hold him in place.

 

* * *

 

 

In late November, she and Ruby started Christmas shopping. Emma didn’t have a lot of money to afford presents, but she wanted to thank the Jones brothers in whatever way she could.

 

Nothing in the stores she visited seemed to live up to how deeply she wanted to thank them. Nothing in a shop could explain how grateful she was for their kindness and welcome.

 

Finally, she found a small Christmas ornament of a window. She smiled at it, knowing that she’d never be able to live down infamously breaking their window. Even if she couldn’t ever properly thank them, at least she could give them something to remember her with.

 

In turn, they gave her a giant Irish wool sweater.

 

“We thought you might need a wooly jumper to stay warm during the Irish winter,” They told her.

 

She thought for a moment of Harry Potter when Harry received a sweater from Ron’s family. Emma understood it now, the feeling of home and family and belonging that came from a sweater.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey,” Killian said, appearing in her doorway two weeks later, “What do you say to dinner out tomorrow night?”

 

Emma looked up from the textbook she was curled in bed reading, momentarily confused. They probably went out to dinner every Friday. She didn’t know what was particular about it this time.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Emma said.

 

Killian’s face lit up.

 

“Brilliant, let’s say we walk into town after half six?” He suggested.

 

“Sure,” Emma said slowly, trying to figure out what he was on about.

 

She didn’t realize it till the next night, when she arrived in front of the door after changing out of her uniform and into a pair of black jeans and a sweater. Killian appeared, nicely dressed in a button up shirt and nice pants. He always looked good, but wow, he sure cleaned up nice.

 

“Is Liam meeting us there?” Emma asked, as Killian headed out the door, his brother nowhere in sight.

 

Killian gave her a shy smile, scratching behind his ear, “Uh, no, it’s just us tonight, Swan.”

 

“Oh,” she said, her heart starting to race.

 

_Was this why he was so shy asking her? Why he was so well dressed? Was it a date?_

 

She walked beside him, letting their conversation turn to friends from school. By now, Emma had gotten to know some of the other boys that Killian was friends with in his class. She liked to listen the hilarious antics of Will and Robin, who both seemed more rebellious than shyer Killian. In turn, he listened to her stories about her adventures with Ruby. It was easy to talk to him. It always was. That was something she liked about him.

 

Emma banished the thought of a date from her head. They were really good friends, basically family. He didn’t have feelings for her, he couldn’t. That didn’t make sense.

 

When they arrived at Dawson Street, Emma thought they’d stop at a burrito joint they both liked, but instead Killian kept walking to a fancier Italian restaurant. His ears were bright red by the time he opened the door for her.

 

 _Okay,_ _so maybe it was a date._

They slid awkwardly into the dinner. Emma ungracefully ordered a pizza because it was the only thing on the menu she knew. She felt herself growing more and more nervous as they waited for their appetizer to arrive. It was one thing to chat amiably as friends, but another to be on a date. Was she supposed to flirt? Act coy? She’d been moved around so much growing up that she never had time for a proper crush on anyone, much less a date.

 

When the bruschetta arrived, Killian fell into a coughing fit and nearly chugged his glass of water to get it to stop. Sometime after the entrees arrived, he started with a sniffle. By the time the bill arrived, his eyes were glassy and voice congested. It seemed that during their awkward dinner, he’d found a way to come down the common cold.

 

Her thoughts of her own embarrassment was pushed away she fretted over Killian. It was clear that by the end of the dinner, he was pretty miserable. Even though they didn’t live to far away, she opted to use an app on her phone to hail a cab.

 

He disappeared into his room as soon as they got home. Emma felt bad for him. He’d clearly tried to be so charming and now he was sick.

 

Trying to think like the Irish, she fixed a cup of tea and ran to the minimart next door to get a bar of Cadbury’s and some cough drops. She left them outside of his room, leaving a text, “Cuppa, chocolate, and cough drops outside your door.”

 

She bit her lip, as she went back to her room, settling in her bed, before adding, “And thanks for dinner tonight. I’m sorry you’re feeling ill, but I promise it was really nice.”

 

She pressed send, before pulling the covers over her head and drifting off.

 

* * *

 

 

“So he’s bought you chocolate. He’s kissed your hair. He’s taken you out to dinner,” Ruby ticked off, as she gulped a cappuccino in a tiny café, “But he hasn’t made a move since?”

 

It was February. Since the date in January, nothing had happened between her and Killian. In fact, she was starting to lose hope that anything was going happen to them. During their date, she’d been so confident that they might finally discuss their feelings, or at least their mutual attraction. But now nothing, it was as if they’d taken two huge steps back.

 

“Nope,” Emma said, “And I’m only here for one month more. I think it’d be too late for anything to happen anyway.”

 

“Oh please,” Ruby said, “It’s never ever too late. Just cause because you are moving home doesn’t mean that it’s the last we’ll see of you.”

 

“Isn’t it?” Emma said, taking a weary sip of her drink, “Ruby, I don’t have anyone who cares about me back there. I don’t have any money or savings. I won’t be able to afford to come back to visit.”

 

“Don’t visit, just move here once you are out of that stupid system. You’ve just a year left,” Ruby told her, “Come here for uni. I bet the Jones brothers would let you stay with them still. You’ll see, it’s not the end of us.”

 

Emma drained her cappuccino and admitted that Ruby did have a pretty good idea.

 

* * *

 

 

The last month in Ireland went by quickly. Emma felt anxious dread growing inside her more and more as the days flicked by. She’d received her next home assignment already, a woman named Ingrid. Emma talked to her on Skype and she seemed nice enough. Like Ruby said, regardless of what happened, Emma only did have a year life in the system before she was realized into sweet and terrifying freedom.

 

Liam and Killian had tried to make sure she had the best last month in Dublin. They took her to different random cafes and restaurants, claiming they were the best in the city. They tried to check off items from the most obscure of Ireland bucket lists, dragging her to a historical cemetery, botanical gardens, and houses of historical figures. She obliged, knowing that she would miss them so dearly when she was shipped back to the United States.

 

For her last weekend, Liam and Killian planned to go on a trip to the Cliffs of Moher.

 

“It’s as touristy as it gets,” Liam told her, “But you’ve got to do it before you leave. If you don’t, everyone in America will complain that you didn’t get the real Ireland experience. Obviously, you’ve got the real Ireland experience without seeing some damn cliffs, but they are rather nice. So let’s see them nonetheless?”

 

Emma laughed and agreed to see the cliffs for her last weekend. She wanted as much quality time with the Jones brothers before she left.

 

On the morning of Emma took her time getting ready. She still hadn’t stopped fixating on outfits. It was stupid and Emma Swan was never one to dress to please a man. Never the less, she wanted Killian to think she was pretty. Even if nothing happened, at least she would forever be cute in memories of the day.

 

Just as she was feeling confident, Liam knocked on the door.

 

“Oh no, dear,” He said, passing her a bag, “You cannot go to the Cliffs of Moher without a cheesy tourist jumper.”

 

Emma pulled out a large emerald green sweater that read “Kiss Me I’m Irish” across the chest. She burst out laughing.

 

“Oh don’t laugh, Swan,” Said Killian, appearing at Liam’s side, already dressed in one, “We’ve all got them.”

 

Emma only collapsed into bigger giggles, as she pulled the sweater over her head.

 

“You look grand,” Killian said softly, reaching for her hand, “Let’s go, shall we?”

 

They headed it off, the early morning light making everything hazy. The tour bus would pick them up in the city center and it wasn’t a terribly long walk there.

 

Just as they were nearing it, Liam’s cell phone went off. He picked it up, murmuring as he walked.

 

“Well, shit,” He said, “Somethings come up for work. I’ve got to go. The trip will just have to be the pair of ye. I’m sorry I won’t get to spend your last weekend with you Emma, but it’ll be fine.”

 

She nodded and gave him a hug, before he turned on his heel and took off down the street in the opposite direction.

 

“Looks like it’s just the two of us, Swan,” Killian said, as they watched Liam’s figure retreat.

 

“I’m sorry you’re stuck on this cheesy touristy thing with me,” Emma said, as they approached the tour bus. In line, she could see a woman with a fanny pack and a man with a massive “God Bless America” hoodie. She felt bad that Killian had to tag along on this tour with cringe-worthy tourists. He probably had much better things to do than go on this silly tour with her. “You could be studying for the Leaving Cert or something.”

 

He let out a little chuckle, “Oh, Swan, I’d much rather be on this tacky bus tour with you than pouring over my maths.”

 

She rolled her eyes, reaching to tug on his hand. What a thoroughly Killian response.

 

They boarded the bus, taking seats beside each other. At the front of the bus, a tour guide was beginning to explain Irish history, pointing out sites as they left Dublin. Emma had heard the stories before, told by Liam and Killian as the explored the city.

 

The early wake up time began to take its toll on her and she slowly began to drift off onto his shoulder. She remembered in the early days when the thought of her head on his shoulder as a potentially loving moment. Now it clearly it could only be familial.

 

Just as sleep was about to indulge her in a bus nap, she felt his lips press into her hair.

 

 _What? Just what?_  


She felt a flare of anger stir in her.

 

It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t just do these tiny loving things- gentle kisses, romantic dates, tender statements, little gifts- and yet not show an interest in her. He couldn’t come so close to loving her, so close to being more than just a foster sibling, a friend, so close to being her first real boyfriend- he couldn’t come so close after building for long and then nothing. It wasn’t fair to her.

 

It wasn’t a conversation that she could have right now. Not now on this stupid bus full of tourists. But she could have it later.

 

She couldn’t manage to fall back to sleep, her eyes eventually flicking open to gaze the gently rolling Irish hills outside the window as the bus traveled into the West. The tour guide continued to drone on, retelling an Irish folk tale. This lady sounded like a wannabe NPR announcer with annoyingly soothing voice. It only irritated Emma more. She tried to stay calm, not letting her anger seep out.

 

Three hours later, as the bus drove lazily into the Cliffs of Moher car park, Emma got out barely concealing her rage.

 

“Which shall we go, Swan? Visitors’ Centre first? Or off for a rejuvenating walk along the cliffs?” He proposed.

 

“Let’s walk,” She said, taking off in one direction, her rage propelling her to walk faster.

 

He walked after her, “Slow down, Emma!”

 

She didn’t stop, continuing to walk along the cliffs to a part where there were less tourists around.

 

“Emma, stop,” He said, pulling on her arm, “What’s wrong?”

 

“What’s wrong?” She repeated, feeling furious even though he probably didn’t know what he was doing to upset her.

 

“Here’s what wrong: you kiss my hair, you buy me chocolate, you take me a on a date- but then nothing. I feel like you are messing me with me, getting my hopes up, acting like you like me- but then nothing.

 

“It’s not fair,” She said.

 

He was quiet for a minute, raking his hand over his face. He took a few steps in a circle, brooding.

 

“I’m really sorry, Swan,” He said, “I truly never meant to lead you on.”

 

Oh, well that settled it. He didn’t like her. It was her own stupidity, imagination, convincing her that someone, particularly this cute, sweet, smart guy, might actually like her. She would always be an orphan. She would always be alone.

 

“Oh, I see, sorry I said anything,” She mumbled.

 

“No, it’s not that,” He said, hastily, “I never meant to lead you on, because I meant to date you. But I chickened out. You’re so beautiful and fearless. But you’ve had so many people disappoint you, so many people come into your life and then leave you- I didn’t want to do that to you.”

 

“That’s a stupid reason,” Emma retorted.

 

“I know,” He said, “Trust me, I know. I was afraid of it not working out, of you getting hurt, ruining your memories of Ireland, ruining your memories of a happy family. I was worried of you saying no and things becoming weird between us. I had a lot of worries and I’m sorry it hurt you, Swan.”

 

She looked down, biting her lip, before forcing herself to live up to his description of her as fearless. She stepped forward and kissed him full on.

 

His lips were just had she had imagined, firm, slightly chapped from the winter air, hesitant first, then eager.

 

“Killian,” She said, pulling back, “Those are all stupid worries.”

 

He scratched behind his ear, looking puppy-like.

 

“I know,” He said, “I just know that you’ve had a life where a lot of people have let you down. I didn’t want to risk being one of them.”

 

She tugged on his hand, moving it from his head to her waist. Her own hands settled on his chest.se

 

“Do you intend to let me down?” She asked, resting her forehead on his.

 

“No,” He whispered.

 

“Good,” She whispered back, bringing her lips to his.

 

The second kiss was just as magical first. It made her heart feel warm, actually warm, in a way nothing had ever done before.

 

“What do we do now?” She asked, pulling away from the kiss to rest her head on his shoulder. “There is only a week before I leave.

 

“Let’s make the most of it then,” He suggested, “After, we’ll see where our lives go from here. If life brought us together now, who is to say it won’t again?”

 

“I suppose,” Emma said, her voice against his neck. She pressed her lips against his skin there, not unnoticing to the little sigh he emitted.

 

“Trust me, Swan,” He replied, “I’m in this for the long haul.”

 

She felt his head nuzzle against her own in the gentlest of ways. She lifted her head to meet his eyes, seeing only honestly in them.

 

“Okay,” She said, “Okay, let’s try it.”

 

His hand and prosthetic slipped down to grasp both of hers, lifting them to lips to put the lightest of kisses on them. He released one, keeping it in his good hand, before letting the other one drop.

 

“Let’s see the cliffs while we can, love,” He told her.

 

They walked along the pathway. For all the tourist hoopla, they were magnificent. She understood, just a little bit, why they meant so much to people.

 

“Excuse me,” Killian said, walking up to a nearby family, “But could you take a picture of me and my girlfriend?”

 

Emma’s stomach did flip-flops at the words. _Girlfriend_. She was finally dating him. This was real.

 

He pulled his arm around her to pose for the picture, falling into their roles as a couple as if it wasn’t something that had started just moments before.

 

“Don’t forget to smile, Swan,” He whispered, “None of your glares for the photo.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” She told him, plastering a cheesy grin on her face, as the photo clicked.

 

“Thanks so much,” Emma said, as she took Killian’s camera back from the woman.

 

She flicked through the pictures, giggling at the cute one of them together, the cliffs as the backdrop. The picture before it was even more remarkable, though mistakenly taken- Killian whispering in her ear and her own dopey grin at his words.

 

“That’s lovely,” He said, “We’ll remember this day always, won’t we?”

 

* * *

 

 

After a wander through the visitor’s center, they were back into the tour bus, as it wove through the Burren and along the coast. Emma didn’t drift off now, the seaside sights too pretty to lull her away to sleep.

 

The bus stopped in a small, seaside town for lunch. While the majority of the bus of went to a carvary restaurant, Killian and Emma wandered down the tiny, fairytale streets. They stopped inside the tiny shops, ones selling hand knit sweaters and seashell art. In another, a small gallery filled with local paintings, they picked out their favorites and decided which they would buy for Liam if they had all the money in the world. They found a bakery selling home baked shortbread and Killian charmed the baker into giving them free samples. Eventually, they finally dipped into a little coffee shop for lunch.

 

The whole place was decorated in twinkling lights, with stars and planets painted on the ceiling. It was dreamy and romantic and Emma felt so grown up to sit there with her boyfriend having lunch. They ordered quiche and frothy mugs of hot chocolate. She was surprised by how good it is, delicious food for a place in the middle of nowhere.

 

When they finished their meal, they started to wander back to where the bus was, her hand in his, swinging between them.

 

With a jolt, they realized the bus wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

 

“Do you think we missed it?” Emma asked.

 

“Shit,” Killian said, looking at his phone, “I think we did. I’m not totally sure we were supposed to wander off on our own like that.”

 

“What do we do?” She asked, wondering how to survive trapped in the middle of nowhere.

 

“Lemme ring Liam,” Killian said, ushering her to a bench overlooking the water, “He’ll know what to do.”

 

They sank onto the bench, Killian releasing her hand to grab for his phone. Emma leaned her head on his shoulder as she listened to Killian explain the situation to his brother, a series of “hmms” and “mhmms” following after.

 

“We’re to stay the night here,” Killian explained, “And he’ll come and collect us tomorrow.”

 

“Oh,” She replied, wondering what this meant, a whole day and night to spend just with her and Killian.

 

It was if the whole six months had been spent sprinting to this point where they were finally together, and now they were. It was if the missing bus was a mistake, a tiny bit of forever to spent together before life would separate them again.

 

So they stayed on the bench chatting, despite the March chill tingling in the air. They were exhilarated; the cold couldn’t touch them now. They passed time telling the secrets they didn’t tell other people, the ones they’d been guarding.

 

“I decided I wanted to be a doctor after I lost my hand,” He admitted to her, “It was a really hard time and I was in so much pain. But the doctors all worked to make me get better. I wanted to be like them, take people’s pain away.”

 

Emma kissed him after his story, the feeling of his lips on hers still overwhelming and new.

 

“I had a foster parent that wasn’t very nice,” She told him slowly, “He was sometimes violent and uh, yeah, it was a really scary time. I think that’s why I get so scared whenever I’m at a new house. I don’t know what will happen and I don’t always feel like I have control.”

 

Killian hugged her for a long time after this, his hand stroking her hair tenderly.

 

“So what will you once you have control?” He asked her. “What will you do when you’re 18?”

 

She snuggled into his arms, finding a comfortable position with her legs over his, his arms around her.

 

“I want to come back here, I think,” She said, “Maybe go to university here?”

 

“You should,” He said, “Ireland would be happy to have you back.”

 

“You too?” She asked, lightly.

 

“I would be very, very happy to have you back too.”

 

As the sun began to dip over the sea, they found a BnB up the road a little and booked a room for the night. The couple who owned it asked if they’d like to join them for dinner. Not having many other options, they agreed, enjoying the roast chicken and vegetables that their hosts cooked.

 

By 9, they had wandered up into their room. They had been up early and now exhaustion clung to them. Upon entering, they were shocked to find their room had just a single queen sized bed.

 

“Do you mind sharing, Swan?” He asked.

 

“No,” She replied, blushing.

 

They crawled into bed with their clothes on. Killian rolled towards to the side and took off his prosthetic. There was a different kind of intimacy in that vulnerability. He pulled the large quilt over them, his arms wrapping around her to pull her close. His eyes were already fluttering closed as they settled into a comfortable position.

 

She listened to his breathing deepen, as her own heart continued to race. She couldn’t believe the day. She couldn’t believe that in a single day, they’d come from arguing to falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

 

It was the kind of thrill you can only have at 17; the kind of thrill of first love. The thrill that came from gentle intimacy, not sex, not anything remotely racy, but moments of heartbreaking tenderness. Lying here, hopelessly awake and bursting with love, this was the biggest thrill Emma had felt in her 17 years of life.

 

* * *

 

 

Liam came the next morning, whisking them back to Dublin. They decided not to tell him about their budding romance; worried it would make things weird. Despite that, Emma and Killian made the most of their last week together- strolling around the park hand in hand, sipping hot chocolate together, going to a concert, even convincing Liam to take them out of the city for a hike in the mountains. It was everything they could do to get in every last shining moment together.

 

On the day Emma left, she had more than a tear in her eye. She was wrapped the sweater they bought her for Christmas, hoping the smell would last for the flight home. So she could remember the warmth of their house in Rathmines, the feeling of Killian’s hand holding hers, the way his voice sounded when he called her “Swan.” She wanted to keep it all with her forever.

 

To everyone’s amusement, she still almost sat in Liam’s seat.

 

“Well at least you won’t be too confused when you get back to America,” Liam joked with her.

 

The drive to the airport was silent, punctuated only by Emma’s sniffles as she tried to hold down tears.

 

“Killian,” Liam said, “Would you help Emma with her bags?”

 

As predicted, she’d left Ireland with a suitcase more in tow, filled with memories of afternoons with Ruby in Penny’s.

 

“Sure,” Killian agreed, moving the boot to get her stuff. She watched as he hitched one handle under his prosthetic, the other in his hand, dragging the two bags behind him.

 

They walked inside Terminal 2, side by side, Killian putting both of her bags onto a luggage trolley.

 

“I’m going to miss you,” He said, “But I’m positive I’ll see you again. People don’t touch each other’s hearts the way you’ve touched mine and just move on from it.”

Emma nodded, tears making her throat stick, unable to speak.

 

She watched as Killian glanced over his shoulder, to see if Liam was watching. From over her shoulder, she could tell he was staring right at them. Her heart sank, she just wanted one last kiss before she left.

 

But then Killian shrugged and pulled her to him, pressing a searing kiss to her lips. He wiggled his eyebrows, flashed a crooked grin, and he was gone.

 

Emma stifled a sob, before turning herself and walking up to the check-in desk.

 

* * *

 

 

When Emma walked off the tarmac in Maine, a woman with the lightest blond hair and ice blue eyes was waiting for her with a sign that read “Welcome Home Emma.” She gave Emma a warm smile and complimented her on her sweater, before taking her to her car and then onto her new home.

 

Emma fell into a new life. She started studying for the SAT. She got an afterschool job at the ice cream parlor that Ingrid owned. Emma continued taking painting lessons, finding that she was better at art than she’d ever imagined she could be. She made friends easier than she had ever done before. Turns out, if you start at a new school with stories of adventures abroad and boasting about a Irish boyfriend, your life sounds exotic enough to wrangle in some friends.

 

She skyped with Killian on Monday and Thursday nights; as she ate a scoop of ice cream after school right before her shift, just after Killian finished his maths homework. Liam normally dropped in to chat for a moment or two, asking about her life in America. She’d tell them about the new friends she’d made, the newest paintings she’d created, and stories of things that happened in the ice cream parlor. Killian in turn talked most about the studying he was doing, as that was mostly all he had time for as his exams approached. Occasionally Ruby joined him, bubbling with gossip about the students who had been in her class.

 

And so time began to pass. Emma worked at the ice cream parlor all summer, finally making money of her own. Killian succeeded at his Leaving Cert and got a place in one of his top choice schools. Emma’s own SAT scores seemed promising, probably a product of all the time she spent studying with Killian. In the fall, they talked less, Killian consumed with school. Emma herself was overwhelmed with college applications. She began to worry, maybe the distance was too much, maybe Killian was really an impossible dream.

 

But then he surprised her by showing up for Christmas. It was a dream, two whole weeks spent together. She introduced him to all her friends and Ingrid, took him ice-skating in the town square, and spent time cuddled with him by the fire. She let him try every flavor of ice cream at the shop. He even looked through her paintings, remembering their afternoon at the gallery in the small seaside town they’d been stranded in. For that treasured bit of time, it was if nothing had separated them. It was just as things had been.

 

When he was back in Dublin, things became difficult again. They hardly had time to talk. Everything seemed to be riding on Emma’s college application. If she got in to a university in Ireland, then they would finally, finally get to be together for good. If not, she felt like everything would fall apart.

 

The letter came on a Friday, an invitation to study illustration at a university in Dublin. Emma felt like she was soaring. She called Killian right away.

 

“God, Swan,” He beamed, his grainy face on the other side of her phone, “If I were there, I’d be spinning you in my arms right now. You know how proud I am of you?”

 

That night, she opened the bill and realized that there was no way she could afford it. Moving to a new city, university tuition, a place to stay- it all cost money. While she made a lot in the ice cream parlor, it didn’t mean she could afford all of that. And certainly not enough for three full years of university.

 

She decided to defer for a year and keep working, save up for the move. It broke her heart to tell Killian that their dream wasn’t going to happen, at least not yet. He hung up, his voice wrecked and upset. She knew she’d disappointed him, but what could she do?

 

They fought for weeks. “You’re giving up on us,” He’d argue. “I don’t have the money you do. I don’t have the opportunities you do,” She’d shout back.

 

After a particularly hard argument, they didn’t talk for a week and Emma was convinced it was over. The distance, their lives, it was all too different. They would never make it work.

 

Then she came home from the ice cream parlor and he was there, sitting on her front stoop, crooked smile and eyebrow wiggle.

 

“Thought you could get rid of me, Swan?” He teased, as he reached forward to pull her into his arms.

 

He spent the summer with her in Maine. He’d study in the library, while she worked at the ice cream parlor. Ingrid was kind enough to let him in guest bedroom, despite the fact he snuck out of his bed every night to hold her in her sleep.

 

“I believe in us Emma,” He told her, as he gave her a goodbye kiss, “We’ll find a way to make it work.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was three Septembers later when Emma arrived back in Terminal 2. She was clad in her favorite Irish sweater and two suitcases, an acceptance letter in pocket.

 

She scanned the arrivals area for a familiar leather jacket and blue eyes.

 

“Um, yes, sorry, lass,” He said, “Excuse, but do you happen to be Emma Swan?”

 

She turned, her face breaking into a smile.

 

“Welcome home, Emma.”

 

She was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: After writing the scene where Killian comes down with a cold in an hour... I subsequently came down with a cold in a hour


End file.
